Itsy Bitsy Spider
by ForgottenLoreNvrMore
Summary: In his eyes the world has lost all meaning. He is a spider in a world full of lovely butterflies. How will he make it out of his new home with the most sanity. The boy who lost everything is now about to find exactly what he thought he never would.
1. Itsy Bitsy Spider

**PROLOGUE**

It is said that the world is a mystifying place. That it is filled with wonder and love, with heartbreak and greed. It is said that the world is small, yet you could live for "forever" on it and never discover all its wonders.

But my humble opinion, Mother Nature is a grasping bitch, unforgiving to those who incur her wrath, and she holds her secrets in an iron grip; denying and declining the right of her children to know about them.

You hear nothing but good about Mother Nature usually about how beautiful she is. Nature is rightly named as a female at least, for like most women she has a glowing, awe-inspiring side that the artists are nuts for; and then she has the side that WILL kill you if you mess with her.

I know, right?

So why do we attribute the name of "Mother" to such a bi-polar mess of weather patterns and gut-ripping atrocities? Atrocities? Mother Nature? Nooo, you can't possibly be talking about the same Mother Nature I know, right…. _right_?

Yes, it is beautiful to see an orange - a weird color all on its own - and black cat the size of a pony stealthily roaming the jungle. The light filtering down warm through the shuttering leaves of enormous trees that make the average human feel puny in comparison. Pretty picture, isn't it? Most definitely awe-inspiring at least. Now, imagine that stunning tiger opening up an equally stunning mouth and attacking you, a helpless dumb-struck human, and eating your flesh. Which begs the question, if we really DO taste like chicken, why do "experts" say that most predators dislike the taste of flesh? I digress, tiger chewing on your arm, "Munch Munch, yummy."

It is Mother Nature though; a tiger is expected to eat, isn't it? A spider may make a beautiful web, but it's not for us to stare at in wonder and then philosophize about it, though I'm very sure the spider would be very much flattered by the stories, songs, and movies dedicated to them. NO, a spider does not make its webs for us all-important humans; it does it to catch tasty meal, "Slurp, Slurp, and REALLLY yummy."

That said, tasty meal could be one of Mother Natures "masterpieces," let's say a butterfly. Oh no, you meanie; why a butterfly and not an icky fly? Well, cause life isn't fair or justified, and butterflies, as pretty as they are, are as equally stupid. While we're on the subject, would you reach out a hand to save a fly caught in the web? Or would you stand there and cheer on the spider as it shimmied down the strands of the web and watch with fascination as it injects, and ultimately, eats it? Yet, if it were a cute little butterfly, most would probably knock it free from the web saying, "I HATE spiders."

But… they are only answering nature, aren't they? The butterfly lives another day, but the spider does not. Well, surely this ONE butterfly won't make the difference, right? What if the next meal it catches is another butterfly? What if everyone keeps knocking away the butterflies and the spider dies? "Good riddance," is quite possibly what most would say. Only for our aesthetic pleasures of course, butterflies are so much easier on the eyes.

Well, good for the damn butterfly. Yet, I am a spider. NO! Not a REAL spider, ya' know with eight hairy legs and more eyes than I could possibly EVER need. I am that unpleasant-to-gaze-upon creature that people would prefer to just wither into itself and die. It is unfair, that just because you are pristine that your life should be easier. That damn butterfly… so nice that its wings are bright. So nice that they only eat nectar from equally beautiful flowers. So damn NICE, that they will sit quietly and gently on your fingers so that it makes it impossible to… well, hate them I guess. 'Cause wouldn't it just be terrible to kill such an unsuspecting insect?

The most cold-hearted person would hesitate, even for a half a second, at killing a butterfly; but hell if you're a spider, or a fly for that matter, well watch out for newspapers.

It would be so… so much easier to be a butterfly. Something that people enjoy spending their time looking at, something that people don't shriek in horror at as you pass by them. 'Cause it's the butterflies that get stupid Mother Nature's best perks in life, they get the best jobs, the best clothes, the best damn EVERYTHING.

Yes, you could argue that there are people who find spiders fascinating, who will purchase them and stare at them for hours while they scuttle around in a tiny little terrarium. Well those are the lucky ones.

You could also say that it is the beauty of butterflies that is their very downfall. After all, what is going to catch your attention, hmm? A bright flutter-by butterfly, or a creepy creeping spider, crawling about the dark recesses of anywhere? It's that very flashiness that will eventually kill them, whether it's some stupid, grimy-handed little brat that captures the butterfly and squeezes "a little" too hard; to a full-blown professional butterfly hunter, who is quite literally, going to stick them with a pin. Take that you little fluttering specks of cuteness and joy.

Well, I've already said I am a spider. No, I'm really not trying to confuse you. I am physically NOT a spider, but I am one of those skulking creatures that sticks close to the dark and hides in those sorta-hard-to-get-to-places. I spin my webs and cast them out, because you know I have to eat too. Damn it all if I'm not always hungry. I'm not pretty to look at. My clothes are rags, and I don't smell like a dumb flower. I'm not gentle; I won't come and sit on your pointing finger. I'm dangerous, my bite is poisonous, and I'm misunderstood.

Well, not really. I'm an orphan on the streets. Yeah, blah blah blah you know typical sob-sad orphan story like allll the other's out there; I know a tragedy, blah blah blah. Really, I'm over it. 'Cause, well there is no use crying over it, ya' know?

I'm not going to tell the whole of it, or at least not in very great depth. There was a fight one night at my house, a typical drunken brawl that got way way WAY out of hand. The story sorta runs like a drama:

Dad: You whore! How could you sleep with HIM? -who is him? I have no flickin' clue-

Mom: You're the whore! Did you think I wouldn't Notice (at this point her voice went high) that you're fucking that blonde bitch at your work!?

Dad: How dare you, you little slut talk to me like THAT (he took some menacing steps toward her) I'll teach you!

Mom: Go ahead you bastard! Act like the drunken man you always are! Hit me!

Well, she probably shouldn't have asked so damn nicely.

One thing led to the next and soon I was running like a gazelle being pursued by a lion, though for the record; I do know it is a LIONESS that makes the kill. Lion = my drunken, panicked father, get the picture?

Soooo, it started to slide downhill after that, and I could sit here for hours just talking about the amount of SHEER bullshit I had to go through after I managed to run all the way down the street, screaming like a little girl AND crying like a little baby girl at that. Neighbors, also for the record, do _NOT_ like being woken up at the wee hours of the morning to try to stop some crazed maniac chasing down his child son with a butcher knife; looking like a bad rendition of the _Scream movie_.

Police showed up about then, but they really didn't know quite what was going on and were a little slow on the uptake. And as if we all weren't already on our way to chaos, hell broke loose. Maybe it was the utter amount of alcohol he downed at whatever seedy strip club he'd visited earlier, or maybe it was the fact that he JUST fucking realized he had murdered his wife of many years. Maybe it was just the embarrassment of sprinting down the asphalt road wearing only his boxers; it doesn't matter really anyway WHY he did what he did. It took only a minute for him to go off track and run into a nearby house, screaming insanely, he knew these neighbors and also about the guns they had, a few seconds more to take a gun and try to shoot an officer. Maybe he _did_ shoot an officer cause… I really am a little fuzzy on the details. Don't think that the event didn't scar me for the rest of my life -physically and mentally- it's just, well cut me a break, O.K? I was bleeding out on the ground so excuse me for really missing most of the party.

Needless to say, after one shot I'm sure that I no longer had the other person that donated their DNA to create me, not that I really gave a shit at that point. I reiterate complete-utter-bullshit ensues.

"What do we do with the son?" Well what indeed you jerk-offs, how about a damn trip to the hospital, I'm only lying in a crimson pool of life here. Oh, they were talking about what to do with me AFTER my surgery AND recovery. What indeed.

And so THE SYSTEM.

Run that by any person living on the streets and they'll just cringe at the mere thought. They say the system is the cure for the problem of orphans and unwanted children. And I say that "they" should go get bent.

There is no _cure_ for being an orphan. It's not a disease that you can treat with some medication and bam you're healed! Being adopted is often a quick fix-it, which in itself is like putting a Band-Aid on a shark bite. "Oh, I'm sorry you lost half your body, here's a Band-Aid, you'll be back up and around in no time at all!" Doesn't really work now does it? And "they" should also be brought to these so called "orphanages," more like Satan's little breeding grounds for humiliation, torture, and enough emotional damage to make a person want to find a nice bridge to go jump off of.

Unless…you're a damn butterfly. If you are, don't worry you'll be adopted. And even though it's just a Band-Aid at least it's better than bleeding out and your wounds turning rancid. You're going to make it out of THE SYSTEM. THE SYSTEM that swallows up kids whole like the evil gobbling monsters from under the bed. Food and shelter are all that's needed to be an orphanage, and yeah they have guidelines, but hey who's keeping them anyway?

Oh, it's not SO bad right… right?

No, you're right of course! I'm wrong and I'm sorry to have misled you, it's so much worse.


	2. The System

Chapter One

I shrugged the patched backpack to a more comfortable position as I walked up the cracked sidewalk. The ancient pack was a sickening green, one that made you want to puke just looking at it and yet it was so hard to look away. Yet, this beaten and sorry excuse for a bag was important to me. It had the only possessions I ever owned in it, the only ones I owned from after the "incident" anyway.

The day was gray, as it always was in the city, and cold. I kept my shoulders hunched and shuffled along as inconspicuous as possible, trying to avoid catching the eyes of any of the more bold homeless waifs that flitted about the alleys. It was rather sick, that the only thing keeping ME from becoming one of the said waifs was this sorry excuse for a shelter. 'Che "HOPE" , more like Despair! Even the landscape around the building was sad and unkempt.

There was the cracked and broken sidewalk I walked, well skulked across - the one and _only -_ twisted, stunted tree to my left about a few feet away. The drab grey brick building scrunched into a tiny courtyard of depression. There were two taller buildings on either side crumbling and decrepit, just barely standing. How incrediblely _not_ cheerful.

I took the stairs- fourteen- two at a time, I was in no hurry to enter the building, but I WAS in a hurry to get of the street into a semblance of safety. Yet, I already knew that "safe" was a relative word. It could be even more dangerous inside the dingy walls than in the alleys. Still, at this point a cot was better than a grate outside where the bits of freezing wet called snow was already beginning to drift down.

I walked into through the main entrance, the heavy doors had bars running down their lengths, oh _yes_, that would make anyone feel better wouldn't it? I stepped inside and you could just _taste_ the utter desolateness of the place. The walls were that "we're-trying-to-give-the-impression-we're-clean" white. There were some posters, mostly inspirational, or at least their -the managements- best attempts at it. The floor was an uninspiring gray, good for those high-traffic, low maintenance areas. To my left, was at my best guess, a "reception" hall and straight ahead a set of metal double doors, white again; how interesting… not really.

I had been given direct, ahem, orders to go straight to one of the staff to register myself, a twelve old, and that I did indeed make it to the orphanage without getting a knife in my back.

As I approached the counter -smart choice going with the bullet-proof heavy-duty glass- I passed chairs that I could only say had seen much much better days. Some of the fluorescent lights flickered as I walked beneath them, protesting their jobs to stay lit, 'cause hey if the rest of the place was falling to crap, why not them too?

I made it to the counter, not like I wasn't going to anyway not unless I literally died from the depressing feeling of the place, and rapped on the glass. I could hardly see over the slab of granite, why was it so high up anyway? You people in their protecting yourself against child robbers? There wasn't anything even worth stealing in the whole damned place honestly.

There was no answer to my polite rapping. I went up on the balls of my feet to peer in closer. I saw a woman, typical of orphanages' apparently, sitting in an office chair. She had her heels up on top of her desk and was just chatting away animatedly into a tiny -damn they were small these days- cell phone. A nifty one, I'll give her that much, but I wasn't in the best mood, what with the drab weather, and even more drab surroundings.

I sighed and knocked harder on the glass, pounding on it longer than I'm sure was necessary, ha take that office lady! I saw her jolt out of her seat in surprise, looking guilty… until she also noticed I was a child. She rolled her green made-up eyes as though it were _my_ fault I was an orphan and obviously cutting in on her social time. She muttered something into the speaker and slowly rolled back from the beat up wooden desk she had been at as she snapped the device closed.

I reached into the back pocket of my jeans and withdrew the crumpled papers stating that I was to be kept -institutionalized in my opinion- at this orphanage. It also read something to the lines of my age, my name, blah, my social- security number, blah, blah and so on. I was too tired and worn out to care, I felt that if someone were to turn me into a crayon I would be the same slate gray as the damned floor.

Finally, Ms. Chats-a-lot came over. Shoving aside the inside panel with a manicured hand, she gazed down at me, and it was the first time I had been looked at like that. Like what? Like the way my mother would glare down at a sudden itty bitty spider that crawled up the _wrong _water spout. _HER_ water spout, and said spider would die a gruesome death by drowning.

"Can I help you little boy?" The words themselves should have been tone neutral, but it was sharp, like a needle, and it dug into my chest aiming for my heart. I cringed slightly away from her, and I toed a sneaker into the smooth tiles. My tongue became tied, and instead of the "big-boy" manner I was going to use, I merely handed over the crumpled paper. Avoiding her hostile eyes, I played with the cuff of my shirt, anxious to just leave. She gazed at me for a long moment before looking down at the paper and than walked off into an area my eyes couldn't follow. For a few minutes it was quiet, and I became aware of the ticking clock to my upper right. TICK TOCK, my eye twitched in time, TICK TOCK TICK. Absently I noticed I was dripping wet from the snow melting off my thin jacket. Ha, take that office lady!

URGH, what was she doing? Returning that earlier phone call? I waited… and waited some more. I was starting to feel even more out of place than I had before, God, why was I so nervous? It wasn't like I even was doing anything remotely important, and it wasn't like they could REJECT me, this was like the reject of reject orphanages.

I didn't even know how I ended up coming _here_, out of all the orphanages to be found in this stupid city. I was pulled out of my musings as I heard the slight squeak of the panel rolling back. My head snapped up immediately at the sound and I shuffled forward again, that irritating nervous feeling back and stabbing my insides.

The woman didn't so much as glance in my direction as she arranged something in front of her. She did put out a hand and gave me a single finger, "come hither" motion. I took an awkward step forward and she handed me a card, just a simple square of plastic. Then she wrinkled her small nose, "You _can_ read can't you?"

I felt scandalized, I was twelve, but damn lady I can at least _read_, body language seemed to be the most of what I was reading these days but hey, thanks for the kind words.

I nodded, but of course she wasn't looking so I cleared my throat and she finally glanced up, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. I felt my face flush red and nodded that, yes, my dear harpy, I _can_ read.

She sneered at me and shoved a pamphlet at me, before slamming the glass shut in my face, missing my fingers by inches. I had caught the words of, "Stupid brats-" and I felt insulted once more.

I stood like a lost puppy statue, my body trembling slightly, my eyes stinging. I blinked them back and sniffled slightly, it wasn't my fault! Not my fault! I couldn't tell her that though, and it wasn't because she was uninterested in me. It was mostly because I really couldn't talk at all these days

I stumbled back slightly from the counter and turned slowly, upset and confused; holding a silly card in one hand, a little folded up pamphlet in the other. I heaved another sigh, if only to stop the hiccupping breaths that signaled a bawling session was on the way, and gazed at the card.

Wow, really not a whole lot to look at. It had a grainy black and white picture of me, from my record I noticed, and a number. No name, not birthday, no nothing, There was a barcode on the other side, but a number? I was just a number?

If I had held any remote bit of happiness walking into this place it was crushed now, crushed by heavy boots and then scraped along the damned broken sidewalk outside. I couldn't bear to look at the card anymore and shoved it into a pocket, before turning my attention on the plastic pamphlet.

Oh joy, it was a map/rules/enjoy your stay combination. There was a birds-eye view of where everything was in the cramped building, a rules and schedule column, and a personal favorite, "Welcome!" Scrawled across the back along with a crummy history on this "state-of-art building". If this was state-of-the-art than I must have warped back a few years, cause this building was not the picture that came to mind when I thought fresh and new.

I shuffled again back toward the hallway with the entrance and turned left toward the double doors from earlier. I walked up to them and for the first time noticed the keypad off toward the side. Just a little box, with numbers to punch in and what looked to be a card reader.

Well, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. I pulled the card back out, swiped it, than with my left hand pushed the numbers I saw on the card. There was a soft "snick" sound and the door opened with a slight push, hmm comforting. From here the building was pretty much square. Living quarters to the entire left -that split into boys and girls- the entire right was made up of odd and ends such as a "rec room" and a "group room". The cafeteria was straight in front, sorry looking tables met my gaze. I sighed again- I've been sighing a lot these days- to the right of the cafeteria was, I guess a lounge?

All I know was there were a mixture of kids sprawled on Saved-From-the-Curb couches staring up at some show on a tiny high-mounted T.V. There were a few groups also sitting despondently at the cafeteria tables; still even more drifting about. There was an empty look in their eyes, and their faces were thin and sullen. Cheerful right?

None of them so much as glanced at me, I can't say I did the same, I was staring too intently for that. I looked away down at the floor, the same gray and the same damn tiles. I turned and headed down the hallway to the left only to come to another fork in the road -why do they call it a fork?- another left.

I knew I couldn't exactly get lost in such a tiny place, but the anxious feeling didn't leave. I was trying to control my breathing as I walked through, everything was just… dead.

I found a glowing sign, if you could really call it glowing, it was more like a candle pretending that it was really a true light, but who was I to judge? I was a shadow masquerading as a kid, well almost teenager… Anyway, the sign said "Boy Dorms, A-B". So by A-B was that like last names? If so, there was a lot more room in this place than I thought there was. There wasn't like there were any halls that split off from where I was standing at the moment, so I shrugged to the air and moved on.

It _was_ creepy, each room was numbered and the doors were all thrown open into the room. If there were any boys in the rooms I didn't notice, I was trying hard not to, not because it would be rude, but orphan kids at orphanages like this were like wolves; look them in the eyes and prepare to be whipped.

I didn't know where I was going, I didn't know what I was doing so I kept moving forward, it was the only direction I could walk in, until almost out of no where another hallway went off to my right. I looked down the endless hall in front of me and than stared down the new hallway. I was like a confused and indecisive kid in a toy store, do I want the game boy or do I want the game cube? I raised a shoulder to ease the weight of my puke-green bag, and consequently the pain that came with it, and stepped right. I was strolling by more dorm rooms, when wonder of all wonders there was color!

I stopped, because even though I had been here all of twenty minutes, I hadn't see so much color in the whole building as I saw crammed on the paper taped outside the room on the door frame. It was colored all bright green and multi-colored letters spelled out the word, "W-E-L-C-O-M-E."

Now I was skeptical, could this be possibly my room? It would be a first, to actually have someone welcome me so cheerfully, yet so impersonally. I hovered in the threshold, rocking back and forth on my feet for a few seconds before I sucked in a breath and stepped in.

The inside of the room was a standard square, not very big at all, if felt a little like a cell. There were two narrow beds, white pillows paired with white sheets, each at an opposite end of the same wall. In between the two… "beds" was bedside table, a beat up lamp, and above it, the surest prize of all, a window!

Yes, it _was_ barred, but to have a window at all was a rarity, I hadn't noticed it in very many of the other rooms, but then again I wasn't looking now was I? As I absorbed the slight joy at a view besides a wall, I than noticed that the drab walls were covered in murals. Most didn't have an actual picture, there were just swirls of complementing colors and if made me feel a little bit better. There were a few actual sketches, not quite colored, up on the walls and they were in my limited opinion, quite good. One bed showed use, its blankets not quite made up and there were art supplies, if you could call paper and some pencils actual supplies. I was about to take another step in further when a voice came from behind me, and I did _not_ scream thank you.

"What are you doing in here?" It was spoken so casually that I was shocked and when I whirled around to see who was ACTUALLY speaking, I was blinded by the color of his hair. Of course it would be a boy, after all it was the boy's dormitories, but he had the brightest yellow hair I'd ever seen possible without hair dye. He had a hazel eyes and skin between an olive and a tan. All in all it gave him a vibrant look, not pale and sullen like the other zombies walking around the compound.

He gave me a weird look and stepped forward closer, "What. Are. YOU, "he accentuated with a pointed finger at my chest, "Doing," this time he pointed to the spot I was existing upon, "_here_,".

I wished I could have answered him, he deserved an answer but I just couldn't talk, what with that accident and all… I coughed -it sounded like grating glass. I walked up to him and as I stepped into the fluorescent light near the hallway he gasped in that ever so slightly way.

I flinched violently, and stepped back out of the beam of light. I knew what he was seeing and it was the reason that I myself avoided mirrors. It was also why for a week after my "accident", that I couldn't believe that I had survived. The poor boy in front of me, in my opinion, probably hadn't seen such a gruesome scar. Listen to me, the "poor boy" in front of me is probably older than myself.

My father, and I use that term very loosely, had managed to catch me before the officers got to him. A neighbor had stopped him before he could quite bring the knife down my head, but it did cut my face. The scar started thin up about the outer corner of my right eye and continued thicken gradually down a short bit of my nose and left cheek, but instead of continuing in a nice little diagonal, the knife had surged down to leave a thicker slice down my chin and neck. I was lucky to live through the slicing of my throat. If HE had managed to drag the knife diagonally that deep I would have died from the cut artery, but because it went straight down, it didn't…didn't quite hit the artery where it was lethal.

So yes, I survived. I was left with a terrible red scar- cause it wasn't quite healed about six months later, and I couldn't talk. Period. The look of anguish must have crossed my features because the boy in front of my went red from embarrassment at his action. He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. It really not so bad, I've seen worse." He tried to pass that line off to me, but I could hear the waver in his voice. He waved his hand about as if he could brush of the awkwardness and walked forward. "I was expecting the arrival of a new roommate, are you him?"

Hazel eyes searched for mine in the gloom, with it being gray and stormy outside, and the lack of the lights on in here, he was having trouble doing so. I nodded, and unsure if he saw me I waved a hand, and nodded again.

The blond made a humming sound and tilted his head, "Alright then."

He turned and walked over to the -of course - white light switch and flicked in on, I hissed in resentment that he kept his light bulbs nice and bright; my eyes feeling like they had been stabbed. Yet, I could see him better and he met my eyes when he glanced up. For a moment we eyed each other up. He had no scars that I could see, his eyes were perhaps a little too narrow; it gave him a rather sly appearance. It was kind of like he was always looking at you, but was really plotting away in his head about taking over the world. His face was heart-shaped, but he had a strong jaw line. He was also taller, which meant older. He must have finished studying me because his slight scowl melted into a bright smile that unbalanced my poor fragile mind. He stuck out a hand and declared in a overtly loud tone, "My name is Kel "Kyzer" Micklin and I'm glad to meet you."

I nearly burst into tears, not only had he been the first to be kind to me here, and was happy… to meet me! To my growing horror though, I couldn't even introduce myself back. I didn't want him to think that I was rude 'cause I wasn't answering him. So I reached for his hand anyway and shook it, but my distress must have been palpable, because he suddenly looked embarrassed again and hurried over to his bed. For a moment I thought I had scared him off, but he returned and handed me a piece of paper and a pen. "Use my back." he said spinning neatly on a black sneaker.

I hesitated but stepped forward; placing the paper on his back I hastily scrawled my name across it before taking the paper off and tapping his shoulder. He spun again and looked eagerly at the paper, like a dog for scraps at a table.

He took the paper and glanced at it, "Ivan Gabriel Marcel?"

I nodded frantically and gave a ghost of a smile. Kel cocked a head and than grinned, "Cool name."

He walked off and set the paper on the desk, than rearranged the art supplies on his bed; he spoke as he did so, "Alright, so I only have one rule, don't touch my art stuff alright?"

He looked back to see what my answer was, and what was I going to do? Shake my head no? Still, I shook my head in confirmation and gestured to the other bed. Kel nodded to it, "Yeah, that's your bed, and the dresser over there," he pointed to my left, "we have to share. I have the two bottom ones, you can have the top ones." He waited again - considerate of him I suppose - another nod.

I went about settling in. I took out my three pairs of jeans, and three t-shirts. I only had two hoodies though; and one jacket. Kel watched me silently, and obviously a bit boredly, but he waited till I had my clothes away and after I had taken a burnished wooden box out. It was the size of a cigar box, but I remembered making the box with my Grandpa a few years ago. We had sanded it, polished it, and hinged it so it could open and I could put a few things inside. I rubbed it gently, wondering now if I should leave it out in the open like this. It wasn't like it had any monetary value, just an emotional one; but in a place like this any kid could be a klepto.

My mother always said I was rather open in my expressions when I wasn't concentrating on masking them, and Kel spoke up, "You can leave it under the bed, or the covers. Just don't forget when you go to sleep tonight."

I tossed him a grateful look and set the box gently under the bed and then just stood there. I looked around slowly, taking it all it all over again and slumping slightly.

"It's not so bad!" An arm fell across my shoulders and I yelped, it came out through my massacred vocal cords and sounded strange, even to my own ears. Kel just laughed, "You're funny, we're gonna get along great!"

He dragged me out by my wrist, "Come on, I'll give you the grand tour and than introduce you to some people!"

I wondered vaguely if he was always so chipper, because honestly… it was well… wonderful to see someone so alive in a place so quiet and bland.


	3. The Cafeteria

**Chapter 2**

I was tugged out of the room and to my left. We flew past the open rooms, or at least Kel flew, I was getting my arm torn off. Don't make me out to be ungrateful, it was nice of Kel to go out of his way to help me, but I didn't want to see other people… or for other people to see me.

I was very tempted to yank my hand away and I really did try once or twice, but Kel had a monster of a grip. I finally just gave up and tried my best to keep up so my arm wouldn't be pulled out of it's socket. It didn't take us nearly as long to get back to the little cafeteria, living room thingy. Kel still seemed cheerful, though he was perhaps really the _only_ one.

The blonde seemed to be looking for something, his eyes scanned the room full of zombi- ehem, I mean kids… yeah kids…

He must have found whatever it was while I was musing about whether or not these beings walking about were indeed children, I felt myself jostled forward… again. This time I felt like my arm was nearly ripped off, I almost managed to say something I think; it was a noise of protest at the very least.

Kel shot me an apologetic look, I returned fire with a glare. He seemed to think that this meant it was the appropriate moment to grin idiotically again, and did such. By now we were approaching a table set off to the side of the building near a wall in the back. There were already three kids sitting there. I resisted again, Kel just tugged harder. Yes you jerk, that is exactly what I wanted you to do, yank my wrist harder.

I wasn't exactly out of breath when we arrived at the table, but my shoulder was aching. Now closer, I was able to see exactly who was sitting around the table; two girls and one other guy. They didn't glance up right away, not until Kel snorted and let out a, "What's up with you three?"

I saw a change over the said three that was almost instantaneous. Smiles broke out and it was like a beam of sunshine, happiness, and joy hit them. "KYZER!" Came the excited conjoined shouts. Wow, just WOW. Kel smirked at the group and shoved me closer. "Everyone listen up, this is my new roommate so y'all be nice to him… got it?"

Though the first part of the statement was upbeat, the last two words were… not so much. I looked at him with an awkward expression, both grateful to him for the little impromptu warning to this small group of kids, but a little edgy at the idea someone I just met was demanding I be treated nicely.

The others just nodded, the first girl, a dark brunet, to my left spoke up, "Jezebel "Reyzer" Linnel." I blinked once, then nodded to her along with a small wave. She kept staring, a bit of color coming to her face when I didn't say anything back.

Panic unfurled in my stomach, I felt terrible. I wanted to run and hide like a scared rabbit during "wabbit" hunting season. She was getting mad at me and I couldn't say anything back. This was such a bad idea. I grit my teeth and was about to stalk away, "Oh yeah! He can't talk, his name is Ivan Marcel."

I gave a mental sigh, this was turning into a not so auspicious meeting. The tension drained from Jezebel's body, her blue eyes taking on a look of understanding. "Nice to meet you." She nodded, then gave a tiny smile as if that would erase the panic had an iron grip on my bowels.

I didn't smile back, in fact I was about to start edging away when the boy on the right of me -the tables were awkwardly round - stood up and consequently blocked my way. He had shaggy brown hair that reached the bottom of his ears and hung in his eyes, "My name is Jakob "Leyzer" Ricker." He held out his hand. I stared at it like it was a snake, I reached out slowly to take it. Jakob reached out further and caught my hand in motion, pumped it up and down a few times before dropping it. Then he plopped down and resumed his energy-burning activity of… doing nothing.

Hmm, what was up with the similar middle names? All of them as weird and as childish as the next, Razor? Laser? What was next, Scissor?

Well to my astonishment, I can add psychic onto manic depressive, social reject, and arachnophobia - yeah, go ahead and laugh at the irony in that. The last girl was blonde, she had more brown in it though than Mr. Sunshine standing at my side, and it stretched _far_ down her back.

"Melanie "Scizer" Hathbourn." Short, sweet, and straight to the point. It was refreshing. I was relieved and I saw a glimmer of acknowledgement in her eyes. Anyway, I would have to be dumb and mute to not notice the running pattern of the middle names. I ignored it though, what these people did to amuse themselves was of no concern to me. I felt a slight push at my back, which was a push in the direction of the table. I still didn't know quite why I was allowing myself to be moved about, a part of me did want to be accepted… but this was getting ridiculous. For pride's sake, I shot another glare back at him, which was ignored, and sat down at the plastic I-wanna-be-a-real-wooden-table-when-I-grow-up.

"Kyzer, did you hear about Alex?" I glanced over at Jakob, who was leaning forward eagerly.

"Uh," the blonde paused, "No, no I haven't. What's up?"

The shaggy brunette quickly looked right and left, as though one of the ghosts called kids wandering around here might care about what he had to say, "He was caught in the girl's dorms again, with Mary."

I raised an eyebrow at the words, half expecting the three to hiss and lean in with "ohhhhh snaps". Kel snorted again, "That ass can't keep it in his pants eh? What are they going to do this time to him?"

"Skip that," Jezebel interjected, "What are they going to do with Mary? I'll bet she's not smart enough to use a condom."

I flushed, what was with these kids? Weren't they my age? I studied them closer, they _did_ look older I suppose, but that was what being an orphan and living in this city did to you. I guess I must've zoned out again because there was a pale hand shaking in front of my eyes. Startled, I wind-milled my arms to keep from falling out off my seat. I, again, did _not_ yelp.

Jezebel gave me a long look, "A bit jumpy huh? Well, you'll settle in I suppose…" I suppose? Oh, well who are you to say that? I felt indignant, like she was some expert in how long it took for new kids to become lethargic in this building… maybe it was something in the water.

"So…," Jakob started cheerfully.

His brave attempt at a new conversation was short lived as we all just stared. I mean, I couldn't talk, Melanie seemed to say about as much as I did -nothing at all -, Jezebel was staring back off into space -somewhere above Melanie's head- and Kel was rubbing little circles onto the top of the table.

Jakob looked crestfallen, and his gaze dropped awkwardly to the table; then… there was silence. I looked to my right - if I looked left there would be only Kel and the wall - my attention caught on the lounge area once again. It was peaceful and sorta nice, I guess. I've had a lot of practice being quiet if you catch my meaning, but I could tell this wasn't how they would normally act. How? Well, Jezebel was like one of those black-n-white cat clocks whose eye's flicked back and forth each second. Jakob was tapping his fingers nervously on the table top. Melanie was, well maybe she was the quiet one of the group, she was as still as a statue.

"We should do something!"

I flinched, Kel's voice was_ right_ next to my ear and now it was ringing. I reached up and rubbed it, the ringing lessened a little. Kel didn't look as nearly apologetic this time when he flashed another huge smile. He had to have had the most white perfect teeth I've ever seen. I had a feeling that I was in the presence of a butterfly.

Jakob sat bolted straight, "What? What are we gonna do? A bucket of water above a door? Short-change the C-D boys -man I hate them- rooms? Oh oh! What about we raid the kitchens and swipe some of the new cupcakes?"

Hmhmm, as my original observation suggested, no more sugar for Jakob. Kel gave a dramatic eye roll and a huge sigh. I rolled my eyes in similar fashion. I've been here for about an hour and I was already wondering if it was too late to hide from these kids. The problem being that once they - anybody - knew you, and thought you were nice enough; they would never leave you alone.

"We," Kel lowered his voice, the others leaned forward, even Melanie! "We, shall break into the office and find the keys to the rec room."

Whoa boy, hold up right there. My hand drifted to my pocket to pull out the smooth plastic pamphlet from earlier. I spread it out in front of me and looked over the map again. Yeah, I knew there was a rec room, but why would they even need a key?

I waved my hands to get the suddenly jittery teens' , more like hyperactive five year olds, attention. Their eyes all turned to stare at me. I withered slightly, but tapped the rec room's name on the pamphlet.

Kel stared down at where I was pointing.

"The rec room?" Jakob asked looking up at me.

I nodded. "Yeah we have a rec room, it's pretty neat. It's the only thing they probably spend money on in this whole place."

I stared at the shaggy boy. I did a mental face palm, no I _know_ there is a rec room, WHY DO YOU NEED A KEY? Are you not psychic like me? Well, too bad for you. I nodded impatiently and tapped the paper again. Melanie sniffed and tossed a pen onto the table. It rolled forward till it brushed my fingertips. "Use that."

Not a girl of many words I see. I snatched up the pen and wrote on the plastic, 'Key?'

Kel's face broke out into a wide smile, sure to show every single pearly white tooth crammed in his mouth. "Well… that sort of has to do with us… but its not really all our fault, right guys?"

There was a chorus of mhmm's from around me, quite a bit nodding of the heads. Jezebel was certainly very enthusiastic about it, going as far as to audibly crack her neck when her head swept back up. Way to much sugar in these kids' breakfast cereals.

I gestured with a hand flourish, kind of like when your asking for more of something, you rotate your right wrist toward you and then back toward them. Jakob caught on quick enough, "Well we were all in the rec room playing some air hockey-

"No not all of us, Mel was with Jus-tin." Jezebel sang out, her face fixed with a caught-the-canary grin. Melanie, in her defense, reached out and shoved Jezebel off her seat.

She crashed to the floor with a strangled, "Hey!"

Melanie chose to ignore this and turned back to the conversation at hand, "He needed help with his homework."

EGASP! Did she just speak a sentence of more than three words? Even better yet, is she _blushing_?

Our fallen soldier returned to her seat, still grinning away.

"Yeah, so anyway Mel was with Jus- uh," Jakob smiled nervously in the smaller girls direction, "Anyway so most of us were in the rec room playing air hockey. I had just scored a killer shot against Bel," -there was a feminine HEY!- "as I was saying. I just _scored_ against Bel, when this kid named Nick was starting some shit with Kyzer."

Jezebel interjected here with bright enthusiasm, "So I grabbed the puck and chucked it at his head!"

…at Kyzer's head? Cause that probably wouldn't do much good for the situation in his defense.

"So Nick was all pissy 'cause his head was sore and he was getting this HUGE goose egg-"

Ah, so it was Nick's head.

"And he walked over and was all like, "Who did that? And I was like, "I did you ass!"

Jakob rolled his eyes and tossed the pen at her, "What Bel means to say is that _I _was the one that said it. So he swung at me and I dodged and did this awesome spin kick!"

What. The. Hell.

"So as you can imagine Nick wasn't happy, but then his little group came stomping over, trying to be all big and bad and-"

"And I told them all to step off!" Jezebel interrupted.

The two had a silent glaring contest, I was appreciative of the brief silence. Then they both broke into a bunch of yelling. All of it gibberish in my to my ears. The arguing began to get louder and louder, until Kel stood up and slammed his palms against the table, "Enough!"

Three, suddenly meek, teenagers looked over at him, Jezebel's mouth half-open and Jakob had his poised in a fist; Melanie was standing up about to slap the both of them. Kel sighed before turning to me, "Basically we trashed the place in this huge fight, but they've replaced everything in there and I heard they've got some neat new stuff."

A maniacal gleam lit in his hazel eyes and I scooted a tad ways away from him. Incidentally, closer toward Jakob who leaned over, "Scary huh? He always gets like this when he thinks of something for us to do." I jumped a little, there wasn't anyplace I could scoot to though… hmm crazy blond or crazy brunette.

Some neat new stuff? So this place isn't as pathetic and as poor as it looks? Kel maneuvered himself away from the table and struck out back toward the lobby, and of all things _whistling_. Jakob scrambled to go after him, Jezebel beat him to it and she lit off after the blond. Jakob groaned and fell in step behind Jezebel. For a moment I just sat there before looking back toward Melanie, … who… wasn't there?

I saw movement to my right and saw the petite brunette already up and following behind Jakob. I sat there dumbstruck. Ok-ay. I felt stupid and awkward suddenly sitting by myself. I had always sitting by myself. It always made you look so pathetic with no one with you. Like some of the elderly people around my home that would go and eat in the morning but end up sitting all by themselves. They always looked so sad, was that how I looked now?

A new palm slammed down in front of me and I gasped in surprise. Startled, I jumped slightly to my left, toward the wall. I swallowed a breath as my eyes trailed up the, rather muscular, arm. I reached the face and furrowed my brows. He wasn't much to look at, plain actually, He wasn't bad looking, nor did he leave much of an impression, but his brown eyes were malicious as he gave me a once-over.

"Ya' the new boy? Kyzer's new roommate?"

I kept my gaze neutral as I nodded. The boy gave a slight snarl, "Name's Nick."

Oh…well…shit.

He leaned in close, probably to deliver some clever speech about how much he hated "That Punk" and how I better watch myself if I chose to hang out with them. All I know is that he was _too_ close in my personal bubble. With a wall behind me and this ass invading I panicked. Scrambling out from the small space left, I darted away only to be caught by my jacket's hood. Nick easily hauled me back and for the first time I noticed the rest of his group. There were four of them, three guys and one girl. All with the same general look, rough and large. Though the girl, I must give credit to, she was easily big enough to go toe-to-toe with either of the guys near her.

Nick shoved me back onto the seat before pinning me with a glare. I fidgeted under the heavy gaze and looked away. He eyed me for a moment, "You look like you've seen some action," he was observing my scar, "I'll give you the choice now, you can join my group, or," oh I did _not _like that or, "You can stay with the chicken shits yur with now."

I choose neither, is that a choice? Nick was growing impatient and he snarled again, like a rabid dog. "Look kid, I'm being nice here, what's your choice?" Behind the burly boy, to his left, the girl stalked forward, "Nick, hurry the hell up, I want to get out of here."

She tossed a look toward me, like I wasn't worth the time it was taking to talk to me. "Chill Amanda. Let the kid answer."

I CAN NOT ANSWER YOU! I physically can not open my mouth and make words come out of it. I felt myself starting to tremble, my eyes fell on the forgotten pamphlet and the pen. Hesitantly I reached out and picked up the pen, the entire time eyeing Nick to make sure he wasn't going to hit me or something. Cautiously I wrote out, 'I can't talk.'

I held the message out and with a glare he snatched it out of my hand. His eyes scanned the paper, then looked up. "Oh? And why the hell not?"

I restrained from rolling my eyes, as it would probably mean getting pounded into the tiles beneath me. I pointed at my neck, index finger stroking softly over the scar.

Nick looked at me critically, his hand lashed out and shoved me into the wall, ugh. Back meet wall, it's the beginning of a lovely relationship. "You know what?" Nick leaned in again, what was his problem with invading my space? I shook my head no anyway. "I don't," Ugh his breath smelled rank, "believe you!"

I was beginning to fear the situation was going south quickly. Obviously. I was almost glad I couldn't speak, I would have had a hard time refraining from snapping back. Cringing back while wishing all at the same time that the wall would open up and surround me, I wriggled beneath the huge hand that was attached to my shoulder.

"Oy! Drop him!"

I turned my head, Kel and Jakob were both jogging over. Nick seemed pleased, most likely because they had numbers on their side. "Why should I?"

Kel was angry, his eyes were blazing and I shuddered. Jakob seemed just as angry but at least he didn't have death rays shooting from his eyes. The furious blond stalked over, "Who gives you the right to rough up someone new? You're the reason none of us ever get adopted out of this hell-hole!"

Nick shove me aside, and don't get me wrong I'm grateful, but damn it; landing onto the table _hurt_. I groaned and out of nowhere Jezebel was leaning over me, "Are you alright?"

I gave her a nod, even though I felt like someone had planted a foot into my side. I regained my balance in time to see a flash attack Nick, belatedly realizing that the flash was Kel and Jakob was going after that one of the other beefy boys. Jezebel bolted from my side and leapt like a cat at that Amanda chick and quiet little Melanie was ferociously attacking the another member of the group.

A boy I hadn't met yet, black haired and blue eyed, charged the last boy who was ganging up on Melanie. I myself, stood stock-still, avoiding the conflict. There was a change over the cafeteria; that same lethargic kids from earlier were now up off their couches and just randomly fighting another kid. Mass pandemonium, and now I know why the tables were so shitty. If fighting like this occurred on a regular basis, which I had a feeling it did, then of course this place didn't feel like rolling out the dough to buy nice new ones.

Kel seemed to have achieved victory, though how he had was a blur to me. All I know is that boy, when pissed, could move like a ninja. He brushed off imaginary dirt, but didn't touch the blood oozing from his cut forehead; he hadn't noticed it yet.

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling as he gave me a grin and attacked another member of Nick's group. He may later say that he was trying to help out the "new boy" but I sensed a deep rivalry here, and any chance to fight with Nick was a chance he'd take.

There must be something in the water here… God I hope not.


	4. The Butterflies

**Chapter 3**

It always surprises me how some people are just _born_ to wine, dine, and woo the world as I know it. If said person got into trouble, a few choice words and a glittering smile was all that was required to get off scott-free. Got a ticket? Give a wink. Got a debt? Flash a smile! You murder someone? Find a good lawyer, look clean, and give the audience your best "It-really-was-me-but-I'm-blinding-you-with-my-sparkly-teeth" grin. Who on earth could be a murderer and have a killer set of chompers like that?

Kel, it seemed was one of _those_ people. He had single-handedly led the operation "conquer the cafeteria" and it seemed, actually, a success. Nick was lying somewhere in a coma, that Amanda chick was licking her wounds back behind "enemy lines" -a hastily shoved wall of tables and chairs-. Well, I can say honestly that this place knew how to throw a welcome party alright.

Where was I? I was curled up in a ball beneath one of the thrown tables, trying to hide and breathing slowly through my nose -the others could smell your fear. Seriously, these kids are on some high-end crack, or acid. ALL OF THEM! Smoking, huffing, shooting, snorting, or downing _something_, because there was at least a good 90% of the kids in this place outside having a round-robin Mortal Kombat throw down of epic proportions. Another 5% were down and out for the count, and yet another 5% were -like me- hiding. Those were the smart ones.

There was a clear shot across the cafeteria to the boys' dorms, I knew in my brain that it was utterly stupid to try and make it. It might _seem _like the path wasclear, but I knew that as soon as I poked my nose out of my hiding hole, I would be doomed -death by kids hopped up on drugs. _Still_… I was pretty desperate. I moved slowly out from beneath the tipped table, okay look left… nothing… look right… uh not clear at all. Crouching, I tensed. I was almost ready to make tracks in the tiles with fire sprung from sheer speed, in fact I had even gotten about a foot out when, of course, a random body sent me sprawling. Seriously? Damn my life…

Mel went zipping past me, her neat blonde hair was now like a complete frizzed mess, didn't seem to phase her much. In fact, it seemed as my earlier suspicion suggested that this… this pell-mell chaos happened regularly. The poor sap, some smallish -I use that word because he was still more beefy than myself but way smaller than Nick- guy was Mel's intended target; she leapt up and BAM! She nailed him squarely in the chest with a tackle that would make a pro-football linebacker applaud.

Jezebel was off to my left, she was straddling a downed female of unknown origins and was just going to town with blazing fists; rather violently. I started to wriggle free from whats-his-name unconscious above me, when Jakob goes prancing by, grin splitting his face from ear-to-ear. He pauses momentarily to shove the kid off of me and continues on as easy as you please. I was grateful yes, but God what a show offy jerk…

Kel was… where the hell was that idiot instigator? Oh, nope wait a tic. There he is, all flashy with his "To me! To me!" battle cry and leading a group of ragged soldier kids through a maze of sprawled tables and other random -food- junk on the floor.

Enough surveying, my chance of getting away was narrowing as time ticked away, As I was no longer trapped beneath a human body, I jumped up again and actually _did _make it to the hallway; much to my elation… whoopee. I followed my mental map and managed to find my -shared- room. It was unsurprisingly, as everyone was down the hall getting their asses kicked into oblivion, left untouched. Seems no one has the time to arrange an impromptu fight club _and_ riffle through a new kid's stuff.

I went over to my bed to retrieve my box from the floor and to put it away safely in my drawers. The wood creaked in protest as I slid -slammed really- the drawer shut. I spun and walked toward my new bed, fatigue crept up from no where and I was entirely unprepared to stave it off. Yawning, I gazed out the barred windows and noticed the sun had long since gone down; not much a surprise really, in the winter the days were so short.

_So… this place is a shit hole because of the children who are living here? _It was an interesting, worthy question in my own opinion. After all, why would kids utterly destroy the few things that brought pleasures to an already screwed -_screwed!- _life? And if this is an honest-to-goodness orphanage -and _not_ some crazy sex-slave ring thing- when do people come in to adopt? Do we have to 'look' like we play nice? _Do I have to go to school here?_

Now there was a million dollar question. As far as I know, I hadn't received anything stating that there was a school on the premise, ya' know like home schooling? At the same time, I hadn't been told that I would be expected to attend some public school in the area… but the weekend wasn't even here yet, tomorrow was a Friday, so maybe I'll be meeting someone there?

The blankets were scratchy and coarse, but damn, were they _warm _and at the moment warmth was very much appreciated. Turns out a window isn't so much of a blessing after all. The building wasn't as _modern _as originally stated, and the window frame had frigid air blowing in along with random flakes of snow at odd intervals.

I think I dozed off at that point. I was wrapped up in a cocoon of delicious warmth when I heard a BAM! I jolted awake in my bed. As it happens, trying to leap from your bed out from _under_ your covers was not as easy as people may think. I did succeed in hitting the floor, 'Oh hello, did you miss me? I think we're going to be great friends!" It was beautiful, the start of a long and meaningful relationship, I could feel it.

Groaning, I pushed myself out from underneath the twisted coils of my snak- sheet, I meant sheet. I looked over at the doorframe. Have you ever had one of those eerie moments at night, where you look into a lit doorway and you see a shadow? Yes, I have had my equal share of frights, but I had to admit being woken in such a manner, and to see such a sight was unsettling.

"AND OF ALL THE NERVE! STARTING SUCH A RUCKUS ON A SCHOOL NIGHT! HAVE YOU NO SHAME- Unidentified Screaming Person took a breath- I WILL HAVE YOU CLEANING FOR THE NEXT YEAR -NO!- THE REST OF YOUR MISERABLE LIFE HERE IF YOU DARE MAKE SUCH A MESS AGAIN!"

My eyes were aching and sending sympathy pains to my ears, which were in much more ouch than my pupils. My eyes did adjust to the dark though, and all I could see was one very tiny woman tugging along a very irate boy, oh Kel. She didn't seem through with her rage, but _did _seem to realize that there were probably a few -just a few- kids in the dorm sleeping. Now all I could hear through the ringing was a vicious hissing, coming from the old lady, and pained yelps. I watched as her gnarled fingers dragged the blond along by his ears, and my own throbbing ears pounded in shared sympathy.

Crazy as it was -though maybe not so much crazy considering the track record of this place so far- the second she saw me; poor, defenseless, shocked little boy, she was all sunshine and frickin' rainbows.

She guiltily dropped Kel from her talons and rushed toward me. With the way she was coming toward me I felt very much in danger and tried to scramble away, at _least_ to under the bed. Alas, I was too -ahem- hindered by my blankets -it wasn't cause _I'm _slow!- and she swooped and-

And was incredibly sweet. Too sweet. After about seven or eight months of steadily increasing hostilities from strangers, I was completely befuddled by her grandmotherly hands pulling me up from the floor. The blanket that was like a bear trap was gently smoothed away and she brushed me off. "Oh you poor dearie, I was unaware there were any boys in bed, what with all the hula-balloo-" she shot a glare at Kel, "Oh you must be startled, me waking you up like that. Here now back into bed with you sweet little thing."

As she guided me back into bed I must've looked like a dear in headlights. I could feel my eyes as round as dinner plates as the lady tucked -SHE _TUCKED- _ me in! I nearly had a nervous break-down. Was I dreaming? No… no the floor had been awfully- what the hell? _Dear lord, or whoever it is answering prayers up there right now, if this is _not_ a dream, then have I died? Did I hit the floor too hard and crack what brain I had left? Am I now in limbo, viewing what my future in Heaven might look like if I'm judged as good? OH DEAR GOD I'LL BE GOOD! I've deserve a pass right? If not let me go back a little while and I'll be good! I will pray, and I'll listen to all my elders, and I'll give offerings when that stupid plate comes around, and I will read my bible everyday I swear! I won't trip younger kids, and I'll help age-challenged people across the roads, and I won't walk on grass where a sign says, _"Do not walk on grass."

I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, expecting the old woman to have just POOFED into nothingness, but she was still there hovering inches from me. Okay, that was a little creepy. "Do you need anything dearie? Didn't hurt yourself did you?"

I shook my head frantically no. I was confused about my helter-skelter feelings. One minute I was estatic about someone actually -_actually - _giving a damn, and a split-second later, I'm freaking out about someone near me.

"He's fine ya' stupid hag, now get out!" Kel tossed a pencil from our shared table and chucked it at her. It missed and ricocheted off the wall onto my head. Mmhum, I had a feeling that this was going to happen frequently as well.

And then miss nice gradmother-lady turned back into Madusa on crack. "WHAT DID YOU CALL ME YOU DILIQUENT WHIPERSNAPPER? HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT. I OUTA'- and then she noticed my wide eyed stare; coughed awkwardly and cleared her throat, "I mean, get to bed Young Micklin, you will be getting up early to wash dishes and then you'll be heading to school. YOU _WILL_ come straight back here, do your homework and then you'll be doing chores set aside for you for a month!" She turned back to me with a kindly smile, "We'll be getting you more situated tomorrow, and I want you to know that the staff feels terrible that there was no one to help you get everything settled. Anyway, good night."

Then she was gone.

WTF?

I felt Kel's gaze drilling a hole into my skull so I turned my head to him. _WHAT NOW? _He, obviously, could not read my mind but laughed. "Don't worry, she's always like that. She had a son -a long long time ago- and I guess he had some shade of red hair, so now every boy that she sees with red hair she's all sweet to, but don't be fooled!" I jerked a little at the sudden loudness of his last few words, "She's a harpy if you get her mad?"

I pushed up to my elbows, tilted my head, and nodded toward him. Kel is either a master at reading body language and facial features, or is really self-centered -I'm betting on the latter- "What _that_? No, she isn't that mad at me. All I had to do was tell her that I was helping out the new kid and she cooled down."

Raised brow.

"What?" He looked scandalized, "You don't think she believes me? Nick really was going to hit you. Besides, they can't pin it on me." He gave that shimmering smile. "They don't have a single person besides Nick's group to say that I, _personally_, started the brawl. I'll be cleaning for a few days and then they'll get bored and then no more cleaning!"

Another flashed grin.

Another raised brow.

_I'm to tired for this._ I sighed and flopped back down suddenly too tired to even stay up. I wrestled my sheet and blanket into submission and settled back down. I cracked one eye back open in Kel's direction, but the boy was already asleep.

The blanket scratched my cheek a bit as I wiggled a little bit more. It was scratchy and wasn't the greatest, but it was a blanket, and this -I think- is a bed. Like that saying goes, "It could always be worse." Yeah, I suppose. How long do you keep with that though, before you just get fed up and say, "What the crap did I _do_ in my last life?" At this point, I'm betting that I must've held up a church or something and shot all the people. Than burned it. Well, maybe not burned it; I'd probably have been born really _on _the street if I'd done that.


End file.
